


Legendary One Shots

by dakatmew



Series: Legendary [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Fairy Tail
Genre: Death, F/F, F/M, Funny, M/M, Minor Spoilers, Multi, OCs - Freeform, Romance, Sad, little pieces, one shots, otp prompts, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dakatmew/pseuds/dakatmew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accompanying pieces to Legendary and the sequels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Comfort

“Another…” Laxus mumbles as he downed his drink, looking only at the bar. His eyes, filled with shame, swim with unshed tears. He sighs, and Mirajane looks at him with sorrow as she gives him another beer.  
He just came back from a mission, with Freed’s rapier in hand. Everyone feels the downer atmosphere, the only ones not aware of the news are off on jobs.  
Lucy Heartfilia, Celestial mage, sits at the bar next to the Lightning Dragon Slayer. She hesitantly lays a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles. “Laxus….”  
“What?” he grumbles, not looking up.  
“It’s okay to be sad.”  
Suddenly he whips around and yells, “YOU THINK I’M NOT SAD? ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS IN THE WORLD IS DEAD BECAUSE I COULDN’T PROTECT HIM! HE’S DEAD! HE’S DEAD AND HE’S NEVER COMING BACK! IT’S MY FAULT! It’s all my fault…”  
With the end of his rant, he turns back around and beats his fists into the bar, the whole guild staring at him, not even blaming him for it.  
Lucy, not to be deterred from helping a friend in need, pushes away his drink and gives him a hug.  
“You know that’s not true, Laxus. Freed was a capable mage; he knew the risks. He loved you like a brother. He wouldn’t want to you tear yourself up like this. You know it wasn’t, and still isn’t, your fault. It’s okay to be sad, Laxus.” Lucy says, smiling softly at the normally scary Dragon Slayer.  
His eyes water even more, and he starts to sob, embracing Lucy and burying his head in her shoulder.  
Mirajane wants to ‘aww,’ but knows that today, of all days, she shouldn’t play the matchmaker, and instead, just serve the drinks and try to deal with her own grief.  
Laxus, finally done snivelling into Lucy’s shoulder, lets her guide him out of the guild hall, probably for a more private location so that he can let go some more.

They get back about an hour later, Laxus looking sad but not guilty like before. Lucy and Laxus still haven’t let go of their hands, which are, in fact, woven together right now.  
“Mirajane…. A round of drinks for everyone here.” Laxus states, and the barmaid looks at him in shock, as do a fair amount of people.  
Lucy, finishing his statement, looks around and shouts, “For Freed. We drink to his chivalry, his kind heartedness, his loyalty, his bravery. To his friendships, his honor, his help, and, most of all, his love for everyone here. A drink to honor the bravest, most chivalrous and loyal person that loved this guild. To Freed!”  
Everyone, raising their drinks up high, chants, “To Freed!”  
All who bear the guildmark of Fairy Tail, that day, they drank, they sang, they partied, they danced, all in Freed’s honor.

Lucy holds Laxus close as he cries over Freed’s rapier, the only thing he could save of his beloved friend, at the funeral.  
Makarov, grim as can be, holds the honor of saying the obituary.  
“Freed Justine was a man who had the honor, the chivalry, and the compassion that would have made a knight proud, and he could’ve been a great one. But instead, he joined Fairy Tail, and we became his family. His spells and incantations were remarkable, the talent he had for them was renowned. However, his most glowing achievement, would probably be the fact that all of us, here today, were all touched by Freed’s life, be it through his magic, his friendship, his help, his spirit, or his loyalty, and, yes, even his love. He will never be forgotten, and as long as anyone of us who has been touched by Freed and his kindness, his chivalry, his honor, he will live on, through all of us.”  
The coffin closes over the rapier, and is lowered into the freshly dug grave. It might have just been Laxus’ power, but a thunderstorm brewed, rain falling down in a picturesque scene that everyone would have thought to be too cliche to happen.  
Said Lightning Dragon Slayer continues bawling his eyes out as Lucy comforts him, guiding him away from the grave after they’ve been there for an hour or more, starting to feel the chill together. The last ones to leave the grave, they take one final look at the gravestone, and leave.

A lone figure stands on the hill next to the graveyard, his next task not a fun one. With raindrops already running down his face, he moves towards the death site, his puppets moving just barely enough to follow him.  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, buddy. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. How about I just stay here and reminisce about the good times for a while, huh? That’d be fun.” The figure, a cloak obscuring his body from both the rain and a human’s vision, kneels down by the gravesite.  
“Do you remember that one time when we took all of Evergreen’s bras and hung them up outside the guild? You were drunk, but boy, did you think it was a good idea. The next morning you were stone, so I’m not sure exactly how much fun you had. But it was fun while it lasted! Remember the drinking contest where you kept up the tally for Cana and Bacchus? I remember how shocked you were at how much liquor went into their bodies! You had the funniest look on your face, like you just couldn’t believe that they did that, and you thought it was so weird. Oh, boy, remember that one time when you bet Elfman that Laxus was more of a man than he was? He took that the wrong way entirely! Demolished the training grounds after Laxus beat him to a pulp. Hey, remember that…”

After three hours sitting beside the grave of his friend, the Seith mage stands up, soaked to the bone and not caring a bit about the cold, and bids his farewell.  
“I wish I was there when this happened. I don’t know if I could have helped, and I probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything in truth, but I wish I was there for you in your last moments. You deserved it. I’m gonna miss you, buddy. You’re irreplaceable, to me, to the guild, to the team.”  
As he turns to walk away, he pauses, and underneath the simple gravestone, his dolls carve into it, with careful precision, ‘A Truer Friend and a Kinder Heart never lived.’

Freed Justine  
X764-X797  
A Truer Friend and a Kinder Heart never lived.


	2. Goddess of Books and Bees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are drabbles- hence the shortness for some of them. Request prompts, and a couple, and I'll see what I can do.

Levy is enjoying her walk back to the house she shares with Gajeel and Pantherlily. It’s a beautiful afternoon, as it was five minutes ago at the market, and beyond that, it would be a fabulous evening. Levy smiles as she thinks of the books in her possession, the treasure trove of entertainment and wonder and fantasy. She’d also picked up a fascinating book about beavers.  
The windows of the house were open, and she cheerfully walks through the unlocked door, to find utter chaos.  
Gajeel is currently standing on the couch, screaming hysterically as Pantherlily attempts to combat a petite monster that is flying everywhere in the room.  
“IT’S ANGRY! HOW DO WE APPEASE THIS CREATURE?” Gajeel, the Iron Dragon Slayer, shouts, the cushions on the newest piece of furniture they own already torn to shreds.  
Pantherlily still combats his tiny opponent. “IT MUST SENSE THE DELICIOUS FRUIT WE HAVE! PROTECT THE KIWIS!”  
Levy watches with confusion as Gajeel spies her, his eyes bugging out. “LEVY! STAY AWAY! THE MONSTER WILL MURDER YOU!”  
“Uh, Gajeel? That’s a bee.”  
“EXACTLY.”  
“It’s pretty harmless.” Levy walks over to the nearest window, opening it to accommodate the yellow and black striped little bugger.  
The pollinating insect buzzes harmlessly through the air, feeling the breeze outside and following it out the window, happily buzzing.  
Levy closes and latches the window shut, before turning to face the living room.  
She finds Gajeel and Pantherlily bowing down at her feet.  
“YOU ARE A GODDESS!”  
“Uh…. Okay then. Help me sort these books.”


	3. Tension and Spray Bottles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt by otpprompts over on tumblr.

“Oh, come on Cana. Get a room already.” Lucy yells from a table with the rest of her team.  
“You’re just jealous that you don’t have a candyman like me!” Cana replies, breaking away just long enough from Bacchus to say this.  
The couple resumes kissing, Mira standing behind the bar and smiling at them, imagining their babies. “Lucy, don’t you see how perfect they are for each other?”  
Bacchus actually lifts Cana off her seat, sitting her in his lap to close the distance between them. Because the space between two bar stools sitting right beside one another is just too much for them.  
Laxus, coming in through the guild doors, groans in disgust at the display. “Get a room, you two.”  
Bacchus responds this time. “Just because your gal ain’t interested in you doesn’t mean you get to beat on us.”  
“Who’re you talking about?” Laxus growls.  
“Lucy, of course.” Cana replies innocently, though it’s actually kind of hard to hear as the two resume kissing before she says it.  
Mirajane exclaims, “WHAT?”  
As does everyone else in the guild.  
Laxus and Lucy’s blushes aren’t helping them.  
“Fuck you.” Laxus growls and shoves Bacchus off the bar stool.  
“No more liquor.” Lucy states, calling out Virgo to remove all alcohol on the premises.  
“Ah, yes. The sexual tension dictates they must do so.” Cana comments, lying on the ground on top of Bacchus.  
“Back to it, babe?” the palm magic user asks, raising an eyebrow and smiling lecherously.  
“You know me so well, babe.” Cana grins and leans down, kissing him again.  
“WE JUST CLEANED THE FLOOR!” Makarov yells.  
“Sorry not sorry.” the couple mumbles, not breaking off.  
Mirajane sighs. “I’ll go get the spray bottle.”  
Immediately Bacchus hisses, him shooting off at record speed, leaving Cana on the ground alone. “DON’T LEAVE ME! SHE’LL SPRAY ME TOO!”  
“No PDA on the floor! Bad Cana!” Mirajane states, spraying the drunk with a spray bottle filled with water.


	4. Final Farewell of Fairies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is fairly sad- warning you now.  
> In the next week, because I have spring break (yay!), I'll be posting 3 more oneshots (Maybe 4 but don't tell.), along with the regular update next Sunday. This is just so that the ones on fanfiction and here are on the same page.  
> But, again, warning, they may not be as much fun as they could be.  
> This one's a doozy, so have fun.

The attack on the Fairy Tail guild hall finally ceased, with most people on the ground, unconscious at best. Boards from the ceiling and upper floors were just barely being held up by two people: Evergreen and Elfman.  
Keeping the heavy objects from flattening their living comrades, the duo pants, draining their strength into preserving the lives of their family for even a second more.  
After no help arrives, though, and the collapse of the boards is imminent, Evergreen turns to Elfman. “You know what, Elfman? We’re gonna see each other again real soon.”  
The large man grunts out a, “How do you know that?”  
She smiles at him, closing her eyes behind her glasses. 16 years and she hasn’t changed.  
“I just do.”  
“And Elfman?” She continues, drawing in a breath painfully and shaking her glasses off her head.  
“What?”  
“I’m manlier than you are.” Evergreen breathes.  
“Is that so?” Elfman responds, turning to look at her.  
“Yes. You see, I’m willing to admit that I love you.”  
Blinking back manly tears, Elfman nods. “I know. I love you too.”  
He stares into her eyes as she activates her power, knowing that this is the last time he’ll ever see her, if she’s wrong.  
The middle Strauss sibling slowly turns to stone, starting with his legs and working up his body, spreading to his limbs first before completely covering his head. Evergreen smiles at the beauty before her. No one can say he’s unmanly now.  
She gives a shout when the boards finally cave in on her, shattering her fragile body and killing her. Ever opens her eyes one final time to see Elfman’s statue dissolving into dust, her magic whittling it away as her own time runs out. By the time she closes her eyes for the last time, only a hand remains, and she catches it in her own, one final effort for the Fairy Queen.  
The last of their magic runs out, and her final breath exhales out of her chest by itself.

The surviving members of Fairy Tail stand solemnly as graves are dug, one for Vijeeter, Reedus, Jet, Droy, Nab, Laki, innumerable others, but the one that no one expects is Evergreen and Elfman’s. The petite woman is laid to rest in a green dress, perfectly suited for her, and in her right hand, laying at her side while her left rests on her stomach, is Elfman’s stone hand, the two perfectly suited for the other in a way that no one had ever expected.  
Cherry blossoms are scattered over the grave, with the manly scent of Elfman’s favorite cologne. The perfect mix for the feisty fairy couple.  
The last of the people are buried, but everyone weeps for the belovedly, perfectly mismatched couple of the Fairies, a pairing that sunk their teeth into everyone’s hearts and, by the end, even Zeref himself would have smiled at their presence.

Elfman wakes up in a long road, clouds covering every space. “Elfman, come on! We’re going to be late!” Evergreen yells at him.  
He smiles, and takes off running after her. “I don’t care if I’m late, even if there’s nothing left when we get there, if I’m with you.”  
The Beast Soul mage scoops up the tiny Fairy mage in his arms, smiling at her while she blushes, but smiles. “I’m glad you finally admitted it.”  
“I’m glad you were right.”  
“I am too.” Evergreen sighs as she settles comfortably in his arms, the two of them content to simply be with each other. They can argue later. Right now, is the time for love.


	5. Visitors of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a long forgotten character, one who appears only in Legendary and only for a mention. Another oneshot will be released soon that features her.

Cassiopea sighed, staring at the end of the table, not at particularly anything. Using her seer powers for other people was exhausting, and actually doing it for them, when they felt it wasn't a legitimate fortune, was frustrating beyond hell. These people, refusing a perfectly vapid fortune that they all wanted and expected.  
Really? Why refuse what you paid for? What purpose did that serve?  
What purpose do I serve? Cassiopea asked herself.  
Ticking it down in her mind, she gulped down another mouthful of the foulest liquid known to man- grape juice.  
She wiped the froth off her lip as the bartender poured her another glass of the stuff, knowing better than to try to cut off her supply. The only defense she had was a dagger, but she was lightning fast with it.  
A seer by trade, the young girl, only 9 or 10, she didn’t care, nobody did, she didn’t have a birthday, she could never go out into the world and not be bothered by people. Being bothered by people meant that they would agitate her, to tell them their fortune, to read their palms, most of which were scarred beyond anything resembling something she could read, or to give them a blessing.  
She scoffed at that one, downing her drink in one gulp and getting off her bar stool, literally hopping to the floor. Slamming down some jewels on the table, she turned up the hood of her cloak and wrapped it more securely around herself.  
As if she had the power to grant blessings. She could barely scrape by as is- like she’d go around giving away her luck.  
Casi sighed, waiting for a crowd to pass before heading into a street, hurrying along against the cold night. Petite for her age, she knew she almost never had enough to eat, yet she went out of her way to do so. Hating the world and all it stood for, she meditated every night in front of one of her two idols in the hovel she called home- it smelled of incense and smoke from her fire, the one that, by necessity, never went out. In the city she lived in, it was too cold to not have a fire constantly in your home.  
If you could call it that, of course.  
But the two idols she had- she had carved them herself. One does not steal a god’s image and go by unpunished. One was a familiar icon- the Lady Luck, carved with a mischievous glint in her eyes, impish ears, and elvish features, something from a fairy tale. In her hands hung a scale- good luck and bad luck must be balanced in the life of the people.  
But the other- you would not find it in the homes of most. A skeletal being, Casi had picked up a block of blackened wood one day, carried it home, and almost threw it in the fire before considering it closely. A perfect size for another idol- but which one?  
Quickly, she had cycled through all the ones she had known, but decided none were right for this marvelous piece. Taking out her carving knife, Casi had let her hands do the carving, on automatic drive, as she thought about other things. Where to get her next meal, where to go to find more stupid travelers, who she could pickpocket and- more importantly- get away with it.  
Before she knew it, she had carved a skeleton, wrapped in shadows, so that only the skull showed clearly. But, still, she felt as if something was missing from it.  
Smoothing it over with her thumb, she accidentally nicked her finger on the tip of her blade for carving, and didn’t catch it before a droplet of blood had already dropped from the finger and spilled onto the idol.  
She gasped, frightened that she had ruined the entire night’s work, but stopped, hunched over the figure, as the eyes glowed and seemed to accept this offering.  
Casi could feel it, though- the idol was complete, now.  
Rushing home, Casi slammed her door shut, relieved to find nothing gone and the fire, though embers, easily rebuildable. Taking off her cloak once it had sufficient fuel, she bowed to the Lady Luck idol first, taking some of her supper, a bowl of stew, and dropping it in the fire as a sacrifice. But before the Skeletal Idol, she bowed low, sitting on her knees, and remained there, considering why she did this. Only holding that position for a few seconds, she righted herself, nodded once to both statues, and took her supper by the hearth. After finishing it, she sighed, discontent with her life, but it was hers. For some reason she couldn’t remember.  
Did she ever claim this life? No, no- it was pushed upon her by her whore mother and her deserting father, a failed, discharged member of the Alvarez Empire, visiting a common whore and not bothering to stick around.  
Once born and able to communicate and walk, her other abandoned her- her stretches of clients were thin with a three year old hanging around. So one night, she left, leaving Casi to make her own way.  
She didn’t even name her- calling her ‘girl’ throughout their time together. Not that it mattered to her that her daughter had magic, Casi thought viciously.  
Staring at the Skeletal idol, she walked over to it once more, sitting on her knees once more, and considered it. No better place to do a meditation- but on what?  
The idol gave her the answer-  
Death.

Two days later, Casi heard a knock on her door.  
It wasn’t pronounced, nor more than one, nor anything that might denote it was special, other than the silence that followed. Even in the middle of the night, the street was never silent.  
Quick as she could, Casi stole over to the door, glancing at the skeletal idol, feeling nervous. Was her gift this accurate?  
Hesitating no more, she opened the door, to find a very tall woman standing in front of her, dressed entirely in black. Her scarf flapped in the wind, her hand moving up and pulling it down from her mouth with a single finger, though her gloves made them look like talons. A smile lit up her face, fangs sticking out prominently in the white smile, so unlike anything else the little girl had ever seen. No one here had white teeth- they were never that clean or that well off.  
Casi’s mouth dropped open a bit, her eyes widening in disbelief at the visitor.  
“Hello, little one. Might I come in?”

Casi stood aside as the strange woman entered, lowering her hood once inside, the door shut.  
“Just us two?” She asked, and Casi nodded, still open mouthed in disbelief at the fact that she had a visitor. Why?  
“Good.” the woman took stock of Casi’s one room home, the hearth of the fire crackling with life, just as Casi had left it a moment ago, having just finished her supper. She slowly turned about, eyes scanning everywhere, possibly for some threat or unseen terror. Finally, her measured gaze fell upon the idols, and her face cracked with another smile, before turning to Casi once more.  
“I have something to offer you, young one.”

Casi looked at the woman quickly, glancing away for something of interest to catch her eyes on rather than her companion. The stranger blinked, staring evenly into Casi’s eyes.  
“Why am I here, Cassiopea?” She asked, finally turning her gaze to something in the background.  
Casi’s eyes widened as she looked at her, the stranger shifting her eyes to find hers again.  
“Yes, I know your name. Remarkable, isn’t it, what names can do? Someone with a name can contact my organization, and make that particular name….. Disappear, through our work.”  
“You…. you kill people?” Casi breathed, not believing her ears.  
“Yes, Cassiopea. I am an assassin. And you can be too. I have a Family, made up of people who are talented, loyal, and can train someone like you in ways that you will make you stronger than ever before. No more scrounging for scraps, fighting for customers, being alone.” The stranger moved their hands to the tops of her knees, sitting criss cross on the floor on the opposite side of the hearth as Casi.  
“You have talent, Cassiopea. I am often in the market for talent, but never have I seen, in all my years, which are quite a few, a talent such as yours.” The eyes of the stranger gleamed in the firelight, and Casi felt her breath still in the red gaze.  
“R-really?” Casi asked, disarmed by the casual way of saying that she- a street rat, an urchin, an orphan of no consequence- was special.  
“Yes, really.” The stranger leaned in. “I see in you the potential for true greatness; something that is hard to come by these days. Magic users are rare, but seers?”  
She paused to chuckle, leaning back again. “You come along once in a hundred years. The good ones, like I believe you will be, one day, take much longer as a consequence to the accuracy of your powers and prowess.”  
Casi opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say.  
“Speechless? It is a lot to process.” The stranger said, taking in a deep breath.  
“Would you like to know how I know where you live? Who you are? Your powers?” The woman lowered her voice to a whisper.  
Casi nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet.  
Her companion nodded to the skeletal idol. “Him. You carved a figure of death- made it truly your own with a sacrifice of your blood to bathe it in. You asked him a question- do you remember what it was?”  
Casi looked up at the woman, her red eyes gleaming in the dying firelight, and spoke, “I asked what I should meditate on.”  
The woman smiled and nodded. “Yes, you did. And the answer that he gave you?”  
The young one’s mouth opened and closed, finally eeking out an answer of, “Death.”  
Smiling, the woman leaned back and clapped her hands together. “Exactly. What did you discover about death in your meditation, then, Cassiopea?”  
Casi shook her head. “I don’t think I can tell you.”  
The woman sat still for a moment, as if taking in what she said, but recovered before Casi could be sure. She shrugged. “That is perfectly understandable. Concepts are different to so many people; it’s a wonder that we still all speak the same language.”  
Casi smiled slightly at that. “Why are you here?”  
The woman leaned in again. “I am here to see if you wish to join our Family, serving our Dread Father Sithis, the being you carved out of blackened wood from a cult you had no knowledge of. I am here because he sent me through the words of the Night Mother, and I extend to you the same hand that has brought countless others into the fold.  
“You are valuable to us, Cassiopea, but you are also valuable to everyone else. Do you want to live your own life, or end up catering to the whims of the common folk when you could have a Family? A true one, one that would never abandon you, one that would support you in all your endeavors, one that would never let you die without raising all our might into one final thrust at our enemies.  
“The question is not whether or not to join us. It is what kind of life you wish to live.”  
“You mean the life of a murderer?” Casi retorted, watching the smile that had slowly grown on the face of the woman slide off.  
“Is what we do truly so different from telling people what they want to hear so you can get their money to barely scrape by, Cassiopea? Is that the kind of life you, a young girl with your entire life ahead of her, should live?”  
The stranger stood up, her black cloak swishing around her and hiding her body from view. In a fluid motion, she walked to the door, and paused with her hand on the handle. One last glance was thrown back at the girl.  
“Think about your future, Cassiopea. Do you want to be alone forever?” A sweep of her free hand made Casi look around the room, taking in the barren state of it all, the only piece of furniture a small box that placed the icons in a prominent enough state to merit observation.  
The door opened and closed, the stranger swishing out swiftly as can be, one finger pulling up her scarf to cover her lower face.  
Casi thought for a moment, threw a worried look around the room, and then ran to the door, throwing it open, and looking around desperately for the woman.  
“I’ll do it!” She whispered, the shout dying in her throat as she saw no one. It had been a dream, then.  
“I’ll do it.” She repeated, tears gathering in her eyes. Why didn’t she take the chance fast enough?  
“I would have done it.” She mumbled, turning back to her hovel, getting inside, out of the cold wind, and shutting the door quietly behind her. Casi sank down, supported in her descent by the very door she’d just closed, and whimpered.  
She could’ve had a family.  
A real one.  
A life.  
Casi buried her head in her knees as she started to sob, the knowledge that she could’ve changed her fate too much to bare.  
A second later, a knock rang out on her door, silence following it.  
Casi looked up, then scrambled to open the door, letting only a second pass between seeing the woman again and hugging her.  
“Woah!” The stranger said, staggering back a little before righting herself and Casi. Chuckling, she petted the girl’s head. “I could never leave a Family member behind.”  
“You mean it?” Casi asked, eyes full of hope and gazing up at the woman, whispering just enough to be heard.  
She saw a measure of pain run through the red eyes that reminded her of poppies, but it was fleeting enough that she wasn’t sure about it.  
“You bet. Do you have anything you want to take with you? We won’t be coming back.”  
Casi almost shook her head, but remembered the idol.  
“Just one!” She said excitedly, running back into her hovel and grabbing the item in question, leaving the statue of Lady Luck for the next resident here. Only those fools who don’t believe in the permanence of Death would believe in such a thing.  
Casi snagged the woman’s waiting hand, pressing the idol into it. “Can you keep it safe?”  
“For now. But once we get to a proper Sanctuary, you’ll be in charge of caring for it, Cassiopea.” The woman stated, then offered her hand again.  
Casi stared at it for a moment, then took it with her own, liking the firm grip the woman had.  
“You can call me Casi.” she focused on the ground, feeling a pause in the woman’s pace of walking.  
“Fine, then, Casi. You may call me Listener.”


	6. Arguments over Pasta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You will understand this later.

Rogue, with a chef’s hat on and his hair restrained in a tiny ponytail on the back of his head, pauses, as he considers the pan full of water before him. The dutch oven is bubbling, but the book says to wait until it’s boiling.  
“What consists boiling?” Rogue stares at the pot, his apron a cute fluffy and frilly pink thing, a gift from Lucy Heartfilia.  
The house is deadly quiet, Frosch taking a nap before supper, (he’s having fish) and Nightshade getting groceries. Which should mean that she’s almost home.  
True to point, the assassin walks through the door almost exactly as Rogue’s thinking that. Any other person would have wondered what the hell he’s doing wearing something like that, but she doesn’t even see it anymore. She actually thinks it’s cute.  
Rogue looks up at Nightshade, who deposits the bags in the kitchen where he’s in. “Whatcha making?”  
“Pasta.” the Dragon Slayer comments and lifts up the box, taking hold of a handful and moving to break it over the water.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m breaking the pasta?” Rogue semi answers, semi asks.  
Nightshade scowls. “You don’t break pasta.”  
“Yeah you do.” Rogue confirms, nodding his head slightly.  
“No, you don’t.” Nightshade states incredulously, moving over to him and grabbing the box of pasta.  
“Yes, you break long pasta in half before cooking it to al dente.” he says, peering at his girlfriend.  
“No, you don’t!”  
“Yes, you do!”  
“Okay, that’s it, we’re calling Listener.”  
Rogue sweatdrops. “There’s no need for that.”  
“SHE WILL KNOW THE ANSWER!”

“You interrupted me for no reason except to ask me how to properly cook long pasta.” Listener states in disbelief, looking at her daughter in the lacrima.  
“Yes.”  
She sighs, and closes her eyes. “How did this…… nevermind. You break long pasta in half before you cook it.”  
“NO YOU DON’T!” Nightshade yells at her mother.  
“Yes, you do.”  
“Talk to Hermaeus Mora about it.”  
“I don’t need to, and I’m not going to bother a Daedric Prince over something this monumentally stupid. Rogue, do you think you should break the pasta?”  
“....yes.”  
“Then break the pasta. Nightshade, if you call me for something this stupid ever again, I will send someone after you, so help me.”  
“....” Nightshade interrupts the magic flow to the lacrima. “I’m still right.”  
“No, you are not.” Rogue says as he breaks the pasta over the boiling pan of water, gently letting it sink into the hot water. “You can, however, make the sauce.”  
Nightshade smiles and ties on her own apron, forest green with little pink and purple flowers on it, cooking next to her Mate.


	7. A Little Message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by my best friend and a person who is responsible for helping me hash out over half the ideas in Legendary Luna, although don't blame her for anything, all the morbidness is my fault.  
> Gizmo is her name- she's awesome, remember that.

Bickslow stared quietly at the small stone, engraved with elegant runes and the never-aging name he had held until that day, as well as that simple saying: " A Truer Friend and a Kinder Heart never lived."  
Freed Justine. Bickslow pondered for a brief second over how one man, a single being, could be quite so well versed and unique as that green-haired mage. That was his opinion, anyway.  
"Sorry I wasn't here for the formalities," Bickslow said, sitting down on the soft grass beside the stone. "But... A few things came up. I needed to deal with them. Becoming a vampire is kind of a shock."  
He paused for a brief minute, as though hearing a reply, then said, "What do you know about vampires, Freed? Did you know that they mate for life? And that sunlight doesn't kill us or make us sparkle, it just burns us like normal humans? I figure you would. I wish you were here to explain this to me." He stopped again. "Evergreen is a nice chick and all, but she's not really that good with research. And Laxus can barely handle the fact that... I'm not the same person I was. SHE changed me into this... This monster."  
His babies, floating quietly by the stone, settled in a circle around it. Quiet moans emanated from them, as though the souls they held were being tortured; Bickslow felt their pain, knew Freed was not just a rune mage.  
"Honestly... We all agreed I would die first. I'm the idiot of the group. Then Laxus because he's a slightly smaller idiot. Then you, and finally Ever - women were supposed to outlast men anyway, so we all agreed on that. Your life... God DAMNIT, Freed!"  
His fingers ripped grass up, and around him, he felt magical energy building up, nearly sparking like the man Freed so admired. "You... You weren't supposed to die... We were gonna do all sorts of stupid shit together, and you were gonna find some great girl and name your kid some crazy name like yours, a-and... God fucking DAMNIT, Freed! Why did you have to go and die?!"  
A spark of magic bounded across the stone, and the runes glowed their familiar, soul-warming purple. Bickslow read the words suddenly projected in front of him.

BICKSLOW:  
NEVER LOSE YOURSELF. IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT. REMEMBER THAT.  
-FREED JUSTINE, FAIRY TAIL RUNE MAGE

Tears leaked from under the Seith mage's visor as he read the message; after a few seconds, it suddenly began folding up, condensing into a small cube that floated before his face. On each side, a small rune was engraved - the name of each of his five babies and an activation rune. When he lifted his hand, the cube lowered into it; the rune projected a picture of the four of them, not long after Laxus was reinstated into the guild. Clutching the cube in his hand, Bickslow sighed deeply, pulling his emotions back under control.  
"Freed, we will see each other again someday. So study up so I can learn a bunch of useless facts when I see you again!" He yelled, then leaped to his feet, pointing at the grave as his babies cheered. "YOU HEAR ME? STUDY HARD! JUST LIKE ALWAYS!"  
Then he was gone, flying off in search of his next adventure. The next novel for Freed to hear, and turn into a magical story.  
The saga of the Raijinshuu.  
{~*~}  
Freed smiled, leaning on the stone as Bickslow made his final proclamation. Shaking his head, he stood up straight and walked away.  
"Bickslow, I can't believe you would doubt me. I'll read as much as I can."  
Then he slowly dissolved into dust, starting with his feet, becoming part of the breeze.  
"Thank you for visiting... And allowing me to rest at last, old friend.  
"But don't rush for a visit."  
{~*~}  
Meanwhile, in a land far away, Laxus paused in his tracks as purple runes wrote themselves into existence in front of him.  
Purple was his color.  
Each rune mage had a unique blend of colors to make up their magic. And this was unmistakably Freed’s, purple mixing with black and yellow, swirling endlessly as they finally finished their message.

LAXUS-SAMA:  
TRUST YOURSELF AND YOUR INSTINCTS. USUALLY, IF YOU FEEL SOMETHING, IT'S RIGHT.  
-FREED JUSTINE

Laxus stared blankly at the message, and as it folded up, he watched the shape take form. A little cube. When he held his hand out, it dropped softly, like a grain of sand in his giant hand. He sniffed as he looked at the runes. Family; Protect; Strength; Learning; Trust. The final rune, when touched, projected a picture of them all together. Bickslow with his lolling tongue, Evergreen smiling up at Laxus, Freed grinning like they had never seen - and Laxus, smiling softly at the three. His team.  
Oh, fuck it.  
His family.  
A single tear rolled down his face.  
“God damnit, Freed. Quit being so nice and makin’ me cry… you're gonna make Ever bawl.”  
{~*~}  
In one of Magnolia’s finest boutiques, Evergreen was indeed crying. But it was silent and graceful as she read the message - meant only for her, written by the most eloquent man she knew.

EVER -  
LISTEN TO YOUR HEART. IT KNOWS BEST.  
YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A QUEEN TO US.  
-FREED JUSTINE

She held the small item close - a cube; the runes she saw read Determination, Tough, Belle, Eternal, and Proud. The final rune displayed a picture - with Bickslow being as stupid as ever floating around, and Freed looking happier than they could remember. His banishment had left the green-haired mage broken hearted. The reinstatement had been a godsend. And then, there she was - smiling at Laxus, looking like she was in love with him or something.  
Casting a final glance at the ball gown before her, she threw out all thoughts of her future for a moment.  
“It's a bit minimalist,” she whispered. “But I'll wear it anyway. You boys never had good taste.”


	8. Visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for a competition, sadly, didn't win, but I still like it. Actually had no idea what to write about with it, so this is much better, considering that my first attempt was more like an essay written by a middle schooler. Ugh.

I sigh, taking in the scene before me. What a waste it is.  
But- it could be better.  
Drawing in a breath, I focus my energy on my self, letting it fill me completely, the breath exiting effortlessly as I suck down another one, barely registering it at all.  
Before me, I can sense the scenery changing, from a blackened, ashy landscape all around, to something different. Completely green and full of life.  
Opening my red eyes, I gaze upon the world of life that I can see, and laugh out loud. It’s…. Beautiful. So unlike what we have now, so unlike what it could be.  
I reach forward to pet a frond of leafy green, only to be interrupting by a roar, then another, then dozens, all around me. I glance up, and my jaw drops, as the black dragon takes dominion over the land, burning down villages, towns, cities, other dragons under his power doing as he does.  
“No…. No!” I whisper, and then force myself to calm down, even as a dragon passes overhead and fires down onto the sea of life here, setting it alight and spreading.  
Despite my fear of this actually befalling us, or my terror of the black dragon, or my horror of fire, I suck down a breath, smoky and ash-filled, concentrating on changing this- it has to be changed. It has to.  
I draw in another and nearly cough it out, so chockful of smoke and terribly horrid reminders of my past, but I keep it down. Concentrate, I whisper, and I feel the scenery change once more.

My gaze falls upon blackened soil and completely white skeleton trees, their life stripped from them, but then blessed with another. Unholy.  
I stand, and look about, hungry to know what this might be the true result of. Instead, I find a person, whose image I know not, but I feel…. Something. A connection? A bond? A…. ribbon?  
What could make this stranger and myself be connected, even as flimsily as a ribbon?  
In the next second, he’s gone, and I find myself staring at empty space. No ash is falling, and, it is comforting to be here. It… welcomes me.  
In the distance, on a mountain, I can still see trees, as green as ever, and as lush as before.  
Is this what our future is to be?

I wake up, my consciousness wrenched back into me by Cassiopea, who is charge of making sure I am safe during these, ‘expeditions.’  
“What did you see?” She asks.  
“A future that I wouldn’t want, another no one wants, and one that doesn’t look as terrible.” I answer, rubbing my head.  
“The only question is, how do we get to them?”  
“Or, more importantly, which path will lead to which one?” Cassiopea clarifies, bringing her hand to her hair, twirling a strand.  
“Maybe…. We’re not meant to know, Listener.”  
“Maybes are answers created by philosophers that don’t answer anything, Casi.” I sigh.  
But…..  
Maybe.


	9. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebration of Luna's birthday, the Summer Solstice, 6/20, born at 9:24 at night.

Listener stared down at the small bundle in her arms, disbelief etched all over her timeless face. Hesitantly, the woman reached out and touched the child’s face, making sure to touch her with only the pads of her fingers, gently.  
Gentleness. She’d have to get used to that, she supposed, tilting her head to the side as she looked at the small child, not breaking her gaze. Children-this child- this…. This…. Child…. Her child…. She could not break her. She would have to be as gentle and pleasant as the sun, as serene and calm as the moon, and as steadfast as a rock.  
She smiled- softly, gently, getting used to her new role already- and stroked the little one’s cheek. So soft. So cute. So…. breakable.  
Listener frowned, pulling away her finger and merely cradling the child, stiffly, as if unused to it, as she was.  
What to do with the child?  
The obvious answer, she supposed, was to raise it.  
Her.  
Her. It was a girl.  
She was a girl.  
“I- she’ll need a name.” Listener thought aloud, and considered the demand.  
She had no idea.  
Listener sighed, and walked to the window, her strength somewhat returned from the ordeal that brought her this small…. Being.  
The moon- singular- was out, and Listener looked up at it, wondering why it’s sister had to leave, but as soon as the light from it hit the tiny child, it- she- opened her eyes, and reached up to tug on Listener’s hair, soft and loose from a usual restrictive bun, or braid, or both.  
Listener’s red eyes turned downwards, facing the child for the first time, really seeing her.  
Her eyes were green, the sclera red. A few wisps of hair on her head were black as night- beautiful, without a doubt.  
Not that it mattered- power was what really ruled the world here, Listener mused. It might just make it easier on her.  
“What do you see, little one?” she asked the child, wondering if that would lead her to a name for… her child. It was getting easier.  
The child was distracted by the glowing orb in the sky, looking over, but not letting go of her mother’s hair.  
“That’s the moon, little one. Do you wish to be named after her?” Listener whispered to the infant.  
There was no reaction, only the continued watch of the moon.  
“Very well. Your name will be Luna. Luna….. That seems like a good name, but it seems to be missing something. How about Laila?” Listener whispered to the child, her fingers gently stroking the arms of the infant, her tiny hands and fingers adorably vulnerable and soft.  
She wriggled.  
“I’ll take that as a sign that you like it.”  
For the first time that night, Listener smiled. For the first time in a long time, she meant it.

The child was three now, running around without a care in the world, giggling as Death Hounds chased her playfully, nipping at her heels and giving her sloppy kisses when she was caught between them.  
Listener heard her in the distance, smiling softly at the thought of her child having such fun in a den of murder. Before her lay a dossier of potential recruits, with a person going over them before her and the rest of the hand’s leaders. Boring, drole, dull work.  
Honestly, if she heard the man talk about the ‘mechanics of the art of ninjutsu’ one more time, she’d murder him herself. He was mediocre at best, but Listener did not really have the heart to kill him right now- it was too much effort to go for someone who, frankly, was not worth it.  
Luna hurtled into the room, the Death Hounds properly tired out and likely returned to their cages by their handler.  
The tiny child, for she would always be tiny to Listener, walked brazenly up to her mother and demanded to be “Up! Up!”  
Smiling, Listener hoisted her daughter up onto her lap.  
The person speaking didn’t pause, and Listener heard him repeating what he said before. Luna, luckily, occupied her attention, looking around in wide wonder because she’d forgotten what this place looked like.  
Her attention wandered, jumping from person to person, most of them dressed somberly, not smiling, except for Morrigan, a young girl of about 13, who waved at the young Luna, causing a giggle.  
Luna hid her face in Listener’s hair, glancing back at Morrigan, who smiled fondly.  
The boring speaker finally stopped talking, and the meeting adjourned. All of the Speakers and Silencers bid their goodbyes to Listener, and to Luna, as was expected of them. Listener, for her part, gave them a cordial farewell, while Luna hid from everyone of them, moving especially quickly when they called her, ‘little lady.’  
Morrigan waited until the last of them drained away, even the presenter, who droned on and on, yet she continued to wait. Finally, the man left, and Morrigan stepped forward, smiling.  
Listener gently shook Luna, the little one turning to face the person, blinking blearily. Her mother smiled at the tiredness that the little one had, disappearing once she saw Morrigan in front of her.  
“What are you doing for your birthday, little one? It’s coming up soon, isn’t it?” Morrigan asked, tilting her head slightly and smiling brightly.  
Luna didn’t have any words for her, as she hadn’t thought of it.  
Morrigan winked at her. “I think your mother has it all planned out. I’m sure it’ll be magnificent.”  
Listener grinned, Luna looking up at her, and shook her head. “I won’t tell.”  
“Ah, well, it was worth a shot. Farewell, Listener, Luna. I will see you two later.” Morrigan booped Luna’s nose lightly and left.  
“C’mon, Luna; let’s go get you your nap.” Listener smiled, hoisting her up with her and setting her on her hip.  
Once Luna was settled down in her bed, Listener sighed as she leaned against the frame of the bed. What would she do…

Tiny Luna ran around on the green grass, chasing a Death Hound, the grounds of the land both soft and expansive. Her giggles could be heard by Listener, who sat on the ground with a picnic blanket spread out, a lunch within.  
In the end, she decided that a nice outing would be best, as her attention to Luna was often divided. Morrigan would be joining them later, as she was her favorite person to play with, surprisingly enough.  
Luna returned to the blanket, carrying a bundle of flowers in her tiny fist, the blooms hastily picked. Proud but bashful, the tiny one gave Listener the flowers, who smiled and accepted all of them. The Death Hound caught up to her, and off they both went, the girl giggling as she chased the dog again, the dog barking joyfully.  
“So you give her a playmate and protection. Smart.”  
Listener looked over, smelling one of the tiny blooms the little one had given her. “Morrigan.”  
“Listener. How old is she now?”  
“3.”  
“You ever gonna tell her who her dad is?”  
Listener sighed. “I don’t know. She’s 3. Maybe when she’s older.”  
“You know she won’t like it any more than she will now.”  
“She won’t remember who it is if I tell her now, and I only want to tell her once.” Listener spat out, venom in her tone.  
Morrigan sat down, no longer supported by the wind. “She might understand it better if you tell her earlier.”  
“Oh, yes, ‘Your father is in a legal guild who despises me and despises your Family because he hates murder and what I did to him, because I turned him into a vampire.’ That’s not difficult to tell her, not at all.” Listener huffed, muttering the last part.  
Morrigan opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted as she was tackled by Luna and the Death Hound.  
“Morri!” Luna spoke, her high pitched voice adorably squeaking.  
“Hi Luna, how are you? Is this your dog now?”  
“Mommy gave him to me. She’s called Hound.”  
“I like it. Suits her.”  
“Come on, we’ve gotta go fight the fairies!” Luna dragged on Morrigan’s hand, pulling her with her.  
“Don’t you want your mom to come too?”  
“No, she’ll hold down the fort. And she has the cookies.”  
“We must protect the cookies.” Morrigan laughed.  
Listener watched as the trio jumped around, laughing and running, until the birthday girl was sufficiently tired out enough for snacks.

“Good birthday?” Morrigan asked at the end of the day, Listener carrying the child while the dog carried the picnic basket.  
“Da best…” she said, fading away as she fell asleep.  
“I’d say you’d rock as a mom.” Morrigan commented, watching Listener’s soft eyes and smile at the sight of the little one sleeping.  
“Thank you for the feedback.” Listener quipped at her, and Morrigan laughed. The girl booped Luna’s nose once more and took to the skies, her raven Hugo accompanying her on the winds.

Listener settled Luna down to sleep, stroking her face softly.  
“How did something as precious as you happen to me?” she asked.  
She stood, walking towards the door, but paused, turning back. Listener whispered softly, “Happy birthday, Luna.”


End file.
